Father and Son
by Simon920
Summary: Sequel to Dockside. Horatio and his father have a visit and a talk.


TITLE: Father and Son

AUTHOR: Simon

SUMMARY: Horatio and his father have a talk

DISCLAIMER: I don't own these guys; I make no money from them. I just borrow them now and then.

ARCHIVE: Sure

FEEDBACK: Of course, that's half the fun! 

Note: This story takes place immediately after the events in Dockside.

Father and Son

Jacob hadn't seen his son in over two years and the lad had changed. He had grown taller and thinner and he wore the mantle of command now like a comfortable shirt. He'd also grown in confidence; all of these were obvious on first sight.

It was also apparent that his eyes were shadowed with exhaustion and strain, his mouth was a single grim line and he was tired beyond measure. It was frightening for a father to see. They were standing on the docks at Spithead, Jacob having come down from his small village to see his son. It had been over two years since they had last laid eyes on each other. Although they had written often, their old habits of estrangement and reserve had interfered, preventing either of them from exchanging any more than small talk and minor gossip.

Horatio had greeted his father with an unexpected embrace—their first since the lad had been small. It had felt awkward, but God! -- It had been so very welcome.

"Father, Captain Pellew has allowed me a four hour leave. Perhaps if you've not yet eaten, you might like to find an inn?"

"Why, yes, yes, that would be a good idea. I'm afraid that I don't know the area as I used to, have you any suggestions?"

He smiled and nodded, but first, "Men, the Captain has granted all of you a four hour leave." Cheers rose as he tried to continue. "Be back here on time, sharp or you'll be grandfathers before the Captain allows you another one. Try to stay out of trouble, will you?"

Amid the retorts of "Right you are, Mr. 'Ornblower" and "Don't you worry about that, sir" and more laughter than usual, they wandered off.

"They respect you, Horatio."

"They're supposed to. I'm their officer." He was matter of fact about it.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean that they do. These men both like and admire you. That's earned, son, not ordered or mandated simply by discipline."

Embarrassed, Horatio shrugged. "They're good men, father. I'm, lucky to have them."

Jacob studied his son as they started off to some inn that Horatio had heard about. Damn the lad! He still had the terrible low opinion of himself that he'd had ever since he was a small boy. Jacob had noticed it not long after his wife had died. Of course she had always spent more time with the boy than he had, but still, you'd have thought it would have been obvious before that. Ah, well. After all he'd done and been through in the wartime navy, he'd have thought that this might have improved somewhat. Apparently, it was still part of the boy's personality. Well, he had a hundred questions he'd like to ask the boy while he had him here. Perhaps he could get to the bottom of a few things.

They came to a small Inn set back from the main street and tucked around a corner.

"I think that you'll like this place, father. It's better than most of them and not too expensive." At this Horatio gave a small self-conscious smile. Lieutenants didn't make much money. Well, neither did country doctors, truth be known.

They went inside and were shown to a small table beside the front window.

"You look tired, Horatio. They must be working you hard on that ship of yours."

"No harder than anyone else. I'm all right." Despite his earlier warm welcome, his walls were all in place.

He tried again. "Your men were telling me about some of the adventures that you've had. They think highly of you, son."

"I'm lucky, father, they're good men. They make my job easier than it would otherwise be."

"They told me about a few things that you hadn't written about. Would you mind very much telling me the truth about some of their stories."

Their pitcher of ale arrived with the barmaid pouring them each a tankard. Her eyes were glued to Horatio. He didn't notice.

He took a swallow. "What have they been telling you?"

"Lies, mostly, I suspect." Horatio laughed, the first laugh that his father had heard from him in years. It was a delicious sound. "They told me that you saved the fleet in Gibraltar by boarding a fire ship and steering it away from the anchored ships."

"Oh, that. It wasn't really all that much, Father. Anyone could have done it. It sounds much more exciting than it actually was, believe me."

"The men said that you got your promotion because of that, and that you were failing the exam."

"I suppose that it looks like that to them. Heaven knows that I was failing the exam."

The barmaid came back with two plates filled with a savory smelling beef stew, her smile only for Horatio, he still didn't notice. Jacob smiled to himself. They thanked her and began their meal.

"They also mentioned something about your captaining a ship feared to be carrying bubonic plague."

"Well, I certainly didn't volunteer for that. It just sort of happened that I was there at the time."

"How so?" He took a bite of the stew. It really was quite good.

"We had put into Oran to get some supplies, while we were there plague was discovered. Just bad timing, really. We were forced to quarantine with the provisions on the supply ship for three weeks." He looked out tea window for a moment before continuing. "It wasn't such a large thing, father. Truly it wasn't. No one got sick, we were all just fine and we delivered the food three weeks later without any problems."

"Just all in a days work, eh?"

Horatio smiled a bit as he worked on his meal. "Yes, something like that. But what of you father? What news?"

"Well, let me think here. I believe that the Cooper's cow gave birth to twin calves last week and McGreevy's Inn has added roast chicken to its menu. Really, Horatio. What could be news in that little place? All is as it was. Nothing ever changes there."

Horatio laughed gently. "It's good to see you, again, father. I'm glad that you made the effort to come all the way down here."

Jacob smiled at his son. It was so different this time, or at least it seemed to be so far. They were actually managing to talk like two normal adults without all of the anger and suspicion that had plagued them for so long. It was such a joy to be able to do so.

After a pause as both men ate, Jacob spoke again. "What was that your men mentioned about you're being involved in a duel? That doesn't sound like you, Horatio."

He shrugged slightly. "It was years ago. It's over and long past."

"Would you tell me?"

By now they had finished eating. As Horatio, at his insistence, paid the fare, he said, "Let's walk. I'd rather not be cooped up if that's all right with you."

"Yes, of course, whichever you prefer."

They left the Inn and started to stroll along the quay, saying nothing for several minutes.

Obviously uncomfortable, Horatio started to speak. "There was another Mid on Justinian. He came aboard after I'd been there for about a fortnight. He'd been there before I'd shipped on, but had left for a while. He returned after he'd failed his Lieutenant's exam for probably the seventh or eight time. He was more than just angry and bitter. He was twisted and cruel and he delighted in tormenting and torturing the others."

He stopped speaking for a few minutes as they walked, collecting his thoughts. Jacob wondered if he would continue or not, but finally he decided to go on.

"He was the most purely evil man I've ever met. The others were all in fear, as was I. It was soâawful. Finally I decided that the only way to escape was suicide."

"Horatio!" His father's hand on his arm stopped him and turned him to face the older man.

"So I challenged him to a duel, knowing that he would, in all likelihood kill me."

His father looked at him in horror.

Horatio calmly continued, he might have been discussing the weather for the tone of his voice. "The day of the duel another Mid knocked me out and went insteadâand was killed in my place. Simpson, the man who I'd challenged, was injured, but recovered. By then I'd been transferred to the Indy."

"And that was the end of it? I thought that they said you were injured.'

"No, It didn't end there."

"Not too long after I was aboard the Indy we rescued the survivors of a British ship of the line which had been sunk. Simpson was among the survivors. We had words and the duel was restaged. He fired early; I was shot in the shoulder. Then he was killed."

"How badly were you injured?" Horatio know that he couldn't lie to his father about an injury. He was too good a doctor for that.

"It was superficial. It went through cleanly and healed without infection or incident. I've a scar and nothing else to show for my troubles. I'm fine."

They walked on in silence for several minutes, each lost in his own thoughts.

"Why didn't you tell me? I wish that you"

"You wish that I what? There was nothing to be gained by telling you, father. By then I was well on my way to healing on a ship patrolling the Med. There was nothing that you could have done other than worry." Horatio gave his father a small smile. "What would have been the point of that?"

Jacob shook his head at the obstinacy of his son. He knew that the boy wasn't stupid. "What if I had found out, what then? Indeed, I have found out."

"And it's news which is two years old and no longer of any importance."

His patience strained, he exploded "How in the name of God can you calmly stand there and say that to me? You're my son—didn't it occur to you that I might want to know that you'd been in danger, that you'd been wounded? I don't understand you, Horatio, I never have."

"I know."

The two men stared at each other, the father's anger fading to sadness, the son merely seeming detached.

"Why does this always happen, Horatio?"

Horatio shrugged, seemingly accepting and uncaring, then turned, continuing his walk.

"How dare you turn away from me!"? Jacob grabbed his arm and spun him back to face him. He saw the flash of real anger in his son's face.

"What difference does it make now, father? Perhaps ten years ago it would have mattered, but now it's long past caring."

His father pleaded, "What are you talking about? Ten years ago? Are you still going on about being sent away to school? My God! I've explained that to you. You know that I was too distraught after your mother's death to raise you. I've told you this time and time again. What else was I to do?"

"You had a son. You could have" He stared at his father in sudden fury. "You could have âloved me."

"I did. I do. Jesus, Horatio, why do you insist on dragging this on and on?"

"And in the three years that I've been in the Navy you've written me, what? Five letters? You've been very busy, no doubt."

Stung by his son's words and the force behind them, Jacob quietly answered, "I didn't think that you wanted to hear from me after the way we parted."

"You knew that I wanted to take one of the positions I was offered at either Cambridge or Oxford or stay with you and help you in your practice. I didn't want to join the Goddamned Navy."

Still stricken by Horatio's vehemence, his father said, "There was no money for University, would God there was, and I never knew that you had any interest in medicine. If I had knownâand then Kean offered you the position on his ship. What else was I to do for you? I thought that you'd have a successful career. You **do** have a successful career."

"When you signed me onto Kean's ship, did you know that the survival rate for Mid's on a ship of war is fifty percent?"

"NoâI ..no."

"You couldn't bear to have me about after Mother died, you couldn't afford to send me to University, so instead you sold me off as cannon fodder. Sorry that I've beaten the odds, are you?"

"Horatio, I did what I thought best for you. Why won't you see that?"

Practically snorting in derision, "I fear to see your worst then, father."

"Horatio, don't walk off like this. Can not we at least try to talk this over as adults?"

"What is there to discuss that we haven't at least fifty times?"

"Why it is that you refuse to forgive me. Why you won't accept that I did what I thought right. I may have been wrong, but My God, Horatio! I did my best for you. Why will you not see that? If you ever have your own son you'll see that"

Horatio stopped in his tracks, turning to face his father. "If I ever have a son, I will treat him as my son, as my flesh and blood, not like the hired help to be dismissed when their presence becomes awkward or inconvenient."

"You think that's what I did?"

"I **know** that's what you did. I lived it, damnit."

"So did I."

"And you seem to have done just fine. I've no doubt that you never lost a night's sleep."

"How in the name of God would you know my concerns or worries?'

"That's all too trueâChrist knows I wasn't there to see any of them."

"Horatio, that's enough. Enough. I'll hear no more of this from you."

"Didn't you just say that you wished to talk to me?"

The sting and sound of the slap across his face stunned Horatio.

"Oh God, Horatio, forgive me Please, I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry, please, let me seeâ.."

Horatio's face could have been carved out of stone. "Well, at least that was honest. That was the first real contact from you since before Mother's death."

"Please, son, let me seeâoh, God, you're bleeding." He put his hand up to Horatio's nose which now had a trail of blood leaking from it. Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he led his son to a low wall they had stopped close by, sat him down and applied gentle pressure.

"Horatio, I didn't mean to do that, I'd never do that to you. I don't know what came over me. Please, let me make this up to you. Please, Horatio."

As he worked on his son's face, Horatio watched him through narrowed eyes. Finally, making a decision, he calmly spoke.

"I know what you've always told me about your reasons for sending me away. I've never believed them. Tell me the real reason you didn't want me around."

Handing his son the now bloody cloth, taking a deep breath and sitting beside him on the wall he hesitated while he decided how to answer the question. Finally he started speaking. "I blamed you for her death."

"I was six bloody years old."

He spoke slowly and softly, painfully. "I know that. When the fever started I had told you to stay at home, to not go to the village, to stay away from the others. You kept asking me what the sickness looked like and wouldn't believe that it could hurt you. One day we found that you had gone over to your friend Danny's cottage to play without our knowing. The boy was sick. Two days after that you became ill. I was too busy with my patients to tend you. Louise took care of you. You were so sick, Horatio. I didn't think that you would live, you were such a thin little thing, the wind would blow you away. She stayed with you day and night. She slept sitting in a chair next to your bed. Finally, of course, she became ill, too. She refused to leave your side. I had to carry her to bed the day she collapsed.

"You know what happened. You survived, she didn't. She was worn out from watching you, you see. After that I couldn't bear to even look at you. I was wrong to feel that way, I know that. As you quite rightly point out, you were just a child."

Horatio looked at the ground at his feet. "So why did you blame me?"

"Because everything I did to save her failed and I had to blame someone."

"You once told me when I had come home on a school holiday that you wished that I'd never been born, then you wondered why I couldn't have died instead of Mother. The day she died I heard you talking in the next room. I was still sick and in bed, but I heard you. I still remember exactly what you said. 'It's the fault of that damn child. If it weren't for him, she'd still be alive. Goddamn him to Hell.'"

"Yes, well I'm sorry for that."

Horatio stood up, "It's getting dark, and this is a bad area. We should leave." They started to move back to the docks, back to where the Indy was anchored.

"How long did you hate me after that, father? Do you still?"

"One day, several years later, you came home from school, I guess that you must have been about ten or so. For the first time I noticed that you didn't speak and you didn't smile. You spent all your time either up in your room reading or going for walks. You refused to see your friends. I knew that I was the cause of your moodiness, but I thought that you would grow out of it. By the time that you were ready to speak again, I didn't know what to say to you."

"Why wouldn't you have me in your surgery. You knew that I'd have done that gladly."

"I was afraid to have you around, Horatio. Don't you see? Every time that I look at your face I see her. You're so very much like her and I know that it would cause her such pain to see us like this. She loved you so very much."

"I know. I still dream about her sometimes."

Jacob smiled at the memory. "Yes, so do I."

"I remember when I was small, I would run into your room early in the morning and jump on the bed then crawl in between the two of you. It was so warm and safe there."

"We used to love when you did that. You were such a joy to us both."

They continued to walk silently for a while, each involved in his own thoughts.

Finally Jacob spoke, quietly and thoughtfully. "One of your men said something while I was waiting for you to come off the ship. He said that it's never too late if two people both want something."

"That sounds like Matthews." Horatio said, equally quietly.

They had reached the quay where Horatio would take the jolly boat back aboard.

"Do we want the same thing, son?"

He was silent for so long, lost in thought, that Jacob wondered if he was going to answer him or not. Finally, "I haven't had a father since the day Mother died. I'm not all that sure that I need one at this late date."

Jacob started to turn away in disappointment. "But I think that I would like to know you as a man, father, if you would be willing to accede to that."

Matthews approached them from where he had been standing with the other man of his division. "Mr. Hornblower, sir. Begging your pardon. The boat is ready to take us back to the Indy."

"Thank you, Matthews. I'll be ready directly." Matthews returned to his mates, all sitting about, waiting to leave.

"When does your ship leave, Horatio?"

"With the land breeze, dawn tomorrow."

"How long will you be away this time?"

"A while. Six months, at least, I'd think. Perhaps longer."

"Would you mind if I wrote to you?" He asked tentatively.

Horatio gave his father a small smile. "I would very much like if you did."

"Then I'll write."

"And I'll answer. Perhaps when we get back again, I could go visit you at home. Would you mind if I did?"

"I'd like that very much."

"Good, then I shall."

He started to move off to join his men for the short trip back to the Indefatigable and the war. Before he had gotten to them he turned back to his father, retracing his steps and putting his arms around the older man once again. "Be well, Father."

"I will. Be safe, son."

6/10/02

18


End file.
